Tintin and The Scarlet Letter
by chibimaker
Summary: As time goes on between Tintin's adventures, a new mystery has come to light. Someone is going around killing men for a reason that no one can understand, and Tintin decides to take on the case. But can he succeed in finding the killer when he's being held back by a young upstart American agent and his partner? And how is it that Juliet is connected to it all? Tintin/OC. Sequel.
1. Meeting Mr Ryder

1

Tintin let out a huff of breath as he fiddled with the tie around his neck. He could swear he had fixed the darn thing a hundred times, but it still wasn't straight. He kept staring at his reflection, and just when he thought he looked perfect, he would find some tiny flaw that needed fixing. The tie wouldn't be straight, or his jacket would look wrinkled, or there would be some dust bunny resting on his lapel or on his shoulder. Snowy was growing restless, pacing back and forth from the kitchen to Tintin's office to his bedroom and the living room. He would occasionally whine or bark at Tintin, who would just shoo him away, saying, "I'm almost ready."

After a while, he heard a knock at his door and he looked back to see Juliet letting herself in. She smiled at him and he found himself frozen for a moment as he looked at her. She was wearing a lovely mint green dress that went down to her knees with a simple V-neck collar, the sleeves went down to her forearms and she wore white pantyhose underneath. Her red hair was tied back into an elegant bun, with two strands hanging down to frame her face, which had been lightly decorated with makeup. "Evening, Tintin."

"Good evening." He returned the greeting, giving her a smile, "You look beautiful."

She blushed at the compliment as she approached him, "You don't look so bad yourself."

"You don't think it's too much?" Tintin asked, turning back to the mirror and straightening his tie for what felt like the umpteenth time.

Juliet let out a small giggle, "Oh, here." She turned him around to face her and she straightened his tie for him. "You don't need to do anything special to impress him. Just come with me and be your usual wonderful self and you'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Tintin asked, "I don't want him to disapprove."

"He won't." Juliet assured him, looking up at him, "Trust me, you are a man after my father's own heart."

Tintin didn't say anything, still a little unsure about meeting Juliet's father. Juliet had been invited to a party for one of her father's friends, who was a rather successful businessman overseas, and he had told her father that he could bring his entire family. Juliet had been talking to her family about Tintin (She had gone missing for about a week so the questions came pouring in about what had happened) and she had been more than happy to fill them in on the details of the adventure he had taken them on. Tintin had never met any of them, but from what Juliet had told him, her younger brother was very excited to meet him. And Snowy. She hadn't said much about her father, only that he was looking forward to meeting "The young man who's stolen my daughter." Tintin didn't know if he was trying to joke about it, or be threatening, but he was intimidated still.

Juliet smiled once his tie was straight and patted his chest. "Come on. The cab won't wait all night."

"Wait, just one last check—" Tintin tried to turn around to check himself in the mirror one last time, but Juliet cut him off by tugging on his tie and pulling him away from his reflection. He made a choking sound as Juliet pulled him out of the apartment. Snowy eagerly followed them out. Once the door was shut, Juliet stopped tugging on the necktie but she still kept her hand loosely gripped to the end. Tintin coughed for a moment before pulling at the tie so it would be looser around his neck, "Juliet!"

"Tintin, don't worry so much about appearances." She said, keeping her voice low as she gently pulled on the tie, using it to bring his face closer to hers. He could feel himself blushing, and Juliet's cheeks were a little red as well, "You look undeniably handsome. And I'm glad the only other person who will be competing for your attention tonight will be your dog." She pulled him closer and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. Tintin returned it, but before they had a chance to go a little further, Snowy barked at them from downstairs.

They separated and walked down to where the cab was waiting for them. Tintin held the door open for Juliet and Snowy, who jumped in just before Tintin slid in beside her. Juliet gave the cabbie the address of the event and he took off. Tintin still kept fiddling with his tie and jacket the whole way over, and every time he did, Juliet would assure him that he looked fine, and he really did. She hadn't seen Tintin in a formal suit before now, and she had to admit he looked incredibly dashing. She found herself helping Tintin straighten his tie and jacket during the car ride, just so he could have the comfort of being told that it was truly straight and she had helped him.

By the time they had arrived at the mansion where the party was being held, Tintin had unbuttoned and re-buttoned his jacket 17 times, attempted to flatten the quiff in his hair 23 times, removed mites of dust from his jacket 28 times, and had his tie straightened and adjusted 31 times. At that point, he looked as dashing and dapper as he possibly could, and he _still_ felt like he needed to prep some more.

"Tintin, the party won't last all night!" Juliet said as she pushed him out of the taxi. Snowy barked at him from outside the car, having been the first one to hop out when Tintin opened the door.

"Are you absolutely sure my tie is straight?" Tintin asked as he resisted Juliet's pushing by keeping his arm against the frame of the car door, "Because it still feels a bit crooked—"

"For God's sake, Tintin, the meter's still running!" Juliet snapped, finally succeeding in pushing him out, forcing him to stumble on the sidewalk while she paid the cabbie. Once she got out and shut the door behind her, the taxi took off and Juliet sighed in relief. She turned to Tintin, seeing that he was straightening his tie again. Juliet crossed her arms over her chest, her hip moving out to one side as she shifted her weight to one foot, the other one starting to tap impatiently against the concrete. Tintin glanced up at her, and his fingers stilled when he saw her dryly quirk one brow up. "Are you about done, Tintin?"

"Yes, I'm done." Tintin said, clearing his throat awkwardly. He offered out his arm to Juliet and she smiled as she linked her arm with his and the two of them started walking towards the entrance. "By the way, Juliet," She glanced at him, "You look absolutely gorgeous tonight."

"You've already said that." Juliet said.

"No, I called you beautiful before." Tintin said, "This time I said you look gorgeous."

"I hope you don't plan on spending the entire night trying to come up with different ways to compliment me." Juliet said with a laugh. As an afterthought, she added, "Although they _are_ appreciated."

"I thought they might be." Tintin replied.

Juliet nodded at the doorman, who returned the gesture before pushing the doors open. Inside, Tintin saw elegant crystal chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling as they walked into the warmly lit foyer. There were already many other people in attendance, all of them dressed very formally as they spoke to other associates. The doors closed behind them and Juliet directed Tintin to his left where he saw a large room that he was quite certain had a ballroom at some point, but for now it was used as a dining room with a long table with a velvet tablecloth stretching down. On top of the tablecloth were many dishes with exotic or luxurious meals like shrimp or lamb legs. He was fairly certain he saw a silver platter that had a small tower of sushi, but before he had a chance to get a better look, his attention was redirected to another party attendant.

A little boy with black hair dressed in a small gray suit came running over to them. He couldn't have been more than five or six years old and Juliet removed her arm from Tintin's as she knelt down and caught him as he jumped up, laughing. She stood up, wrapping her arms around the little boy, keeping one hand underneath his rear as she picked him up. He hugged her around the neck with a happy cry.

"Julie!" He cheered.

"Hello Richie!" Juliet greeted, giving him a peck on the cheek, "My goodness, you look handsome tonight."

The little boy pulled back from Juliet, smiling proudly as he held up his sleeves, showing the buttoned cuffs, "I did the buttons all by myself!"

"Oh, did you?" Juliet said, "Aren't you a big boy! Next thing I know, you'll be telling me you have a fiancée and you're getting married."

"Ew!" Richie's nose wrinkled up in disgust, "I don't want to get married! Girls are icky."

"Does that mean you think I'm icky?" Juliet asked with a teasing grin. Richie shook his head.

"No, you're not a girl. You're my sissy!" He hugged her around the neck again and Juliet laughed.

"Oh, I've missed you, sweetheart." She said, returning the small hug. She turned around to face Tintin, "Tintin, this is my little brother Richard. Richie, this is my friend Tintin. Can you say hello?"

Richard suddenly became shy at the sight of Tintin, and he hid his face in Juliet's shoulder. Tintin smiled at the sight of it and held out his hand.

"It's very nice to meet you, Richard." He said.

Richard peeked out from Juliet's shoulder and his small hand reached out to wrap around Tintin's fingers. Tintin's hand practically engulfed Richard's, but that didn't deter the child from shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you, too…"

Snowy let out a small whine, as if to show that he was not someone to be forgotten, and Richard's eyes widened as he looked down at the little terrier and he smiled brightly.

"Oh, this is Snowy." Tintin said, "He's my dog."

"Can I play with him?" Richard asked eagerly, suddenly forgetting his shyness as he was faced with the prospect of playing rather than staying at the party.

"Of course." Tintin said, "I think he would like the playmate." He looked down at Snowy as if for confirmation, and the little dog let out a bark.

"Julie put me down, put me down!" Richard suddenly started squirming and Juliet laughed as she did as he wanted, placing him down on the polished tile floor.

"Now, hold on." Juliet made sure to keep Richard still to speak to him, kneeling down to his eye-level. Richard pouted at being denied playtime with Snowy but he listened, "Now, you play outside, and try not to get into any mud puddles or get grass stains on your suit, okay?"

"Okay, okay." He whined impatiently. Juliet released her hold on him and Richard was quick to direct Snowy to the door, calling to him, telling him to follow. The little terrier did so eagerly, and it wasn't long until they ran out the front door where Juliet and Tintin had entered. Juliet still smiled after they left.

She turned to Tintin, "Now was it _that_ hard to meet my younger brother?"

"It's not your brother I was worried about, and you know it." Tintin said, his hand unconsciously reaching to straighten his tie again. Juliet quickly reached up and smacked his hand down.

"Stop grooming yourself, you look fine." She said, taking his arm in hers again, "A man who is perfectly presentable."

"Still…" Tintin trailed off, his hand moving to adjust the hem of his jacket.

"Come on." Juliet said quietly, giving his arm a small squeeze of reassurance. They started walking through the crowds again until they started approaching a small group of older men who were all dressed in fine black suits – except for one. There was one man with dull copper-colored hair that had been brushed back, his suit was a deep shade of green and he wore a bow tie of the same green shade, with small spots of purple poking through the fabric. He was a man easily into his late forties or early fifties, if the laugh lines around his mouth were anything to go by. Juliet released her grip on Tintin's arm as she went up to the man, tapping his shoulder.

He turned, giving Tintin a good look at his emerald green eyes as they lit up at the sight of her, "Juliet! Good evening!" He brought his arms around her shoulders in a tight hug and Juliet was happy to return it. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek as he pulled away, "You look lovely tonight, dearest."

"Thank you, Papa." Juliet said, giving him a bright smile.

"Is that Juliet?" One of the men from the small group that Juliet's father had been speaking to caught their attention, smiling as he looked Juliet up and down, "Good Lord, what a beautiful woman you've become."

"Oh, thank you Mr. Morrey." Juliet said.

"I think the last time we saw you, you were only this tall!" Another man laughed, bringing his hand up to his waist.

"I wasn't _that_ little the last time you saw me." Juliet laughed. "It was only five years ago."

"And what a difference five years can make!" A third man said, he turned to Juliet's father, "You better watch her, Geoffrey. I just might take your daughter as my third wife!"

"_Ha_! Already planning the divorce papers are we? We'll see if your second wife takes so kindly to that idea." Juliet's father said before he turned and started calling out, "Oh, _Miriam_!"

"Shh, shh!" The third man hissed while the rest of the group started laughing heartily. Tintin found himself chuckling along with them.

The second man looked over at Tintin and pointed him out, "And who is this young gentleman?" He asked.

Juliet turned around and smiled at Tintin, "Gentleman, let me introduce my escort for the evening." She reached over, taking Tintin's hand and pulling him closer to her father and his friends, "This is Tintin, he's a local reporter."

"Actually, I'm a journalist." Tintin gently corrected her.

"Of course, forgive me." Juliet said with a small grin.

"I thought I recognized you from somewhere!" Mr. Morrey exclaimed, "I've read your articles in the paper. You're quite the little adventurer from what I can tell."

"Thank you."

"Ah, so _this_ is Tintin." Juliet's father said, stepping past his daughter so that he was in front of Tintin, "You're the young man that's stolen the heart of my only daughter, are you?"

Tintin cleared his throat awkwardly as he looked at the man. This was it. The moment he had been fearing the entire night. He wished it hadn't come so soon, but there was no turning back now. He looked up, keeping his gaze confidently locked on Geoffrey Ryder's as he held out his hand for him to shake, "Yes, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard nothing but good things about you."

There was a single moment where Geoffrey hesitated to do anything. His gaze moved up and down, evaluating Tintin's appearance. Tintin could feel his heart starting to race. He dearly hoped his tie was straight and that there wasn't any lint on his jacket for him to point out. Geoffrey moved his hand to shake Tintin's. Now this was the tricky part. Tintin couldn't keep his grip on the handshake too light, or Juliet's father might think him a little too weak-hearted for his daughter, but he couldn't grip too hard either or risk seeming like he was trying to outdo him. This was the language that was spoken through a single handshake between a father and his daughter's caller. Tintin gave it his best shot, giving the man a firm handshake. Geoffrey's eyes didn't falter from Tintin's as their hands shook.

"I should hope so." He said. He pulled his hand away from Tintin, letting out an approving hum as he glanced down at his palm. The young man let out an inward sigh of relief. He hadn't done too much or too little in the handshake.

"If I had known a celebrity was going to attend, I would have worn a better suit." Mr. Morrey said, patting his belly, "I'm afraid this one makes me look a little too rotund."

"Oh rotund-schmotund. You're as fat as a cow and you know it." The second man said, making a round of laughs come from the group.

"Nevertheless, it is a pleasure to meet you." Mr. Morrey reached out and Tintin shook his hand.

"And you as well."

"So, how is it that you and little Juliet know each other?"

"We live in the same apartment complex." Juliet was quick to answer before Tintin had a chance to tell them.

"You don't say?" One man said in surprise.

"Well, have you happened to catch a peek at his writings?" Mr. Morrey said, "I would imagine his best articles would be framed somewhere."

"Actually, I don't keep any articles that I've written." Tintin said.

"What? Why ever not?" Tintin didn't notice how Juliet's father's eyes remained on him, waiting to hear his answer.

"Well, I've already lived what I've written, there's not much need to keep it. Besides, I feel there are much greater journalists out there that deserve to have their work framed."

"A modest man." Geoffrey commented, catching his attention, "Glad to know your status doesn't go to your head."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Tintin replied, "When someone gets overconfident, things tend to go awry. And in my line of work, you need to keep a clear head."

"Indeed." Geoffrey smiled at him.

"So, tell me, Tintin," Mr. Morrey began, "When do you plan to publish for us again?"

"Once I've finished a small venture that's currently in progress, I'll send it in to my editor." Tintin said.

"And when will that be?"

"It's hard to say. It depends on how soon a crew can be found for deep-sea exploration."

"Deep-sea? My word, what are you searching for?"

"I'm afraid that's a secret." Tintin said with a grin.

"Oh, come now."

"I'm sorry, but I'm sworn to secrecy by my editor. Any article that is undergoing publishing isn't to be spoken of until _after_ it's been released."

"But that means that he can regale you gentlemen with one of the many adventures he's already published." Juliet said, giving her father a subtle nudge to get his attention.

"Well, I suppose… if there's nothing else to talk about." Tintin said.

"Oh, believe me, there's not." A third man said, "The only thing _these_ old farts have to talk about is their latest investments. Nothing interesting about that."

"Not like you're much better, with all those miserable stories about your wife." A second man said.

"At least _my_ wife is still attractive."

"My wife is beautiful!"

"You complain about her appearance all the time."

"Yes, because she's not here."

Another round of laughter came from the men and Tintin couldn't help but grin. "Well, where would you prefer I start?"

* * *

Juliet smiled as she watched Tintin continuing to speak with her father. Mr. Morrey and his associates had moved on to mingle with other potential business partners. She had left the conversation long before then. Tintin was telling her father one of his many stories of adventure, or at least that's what she assumed. From what she remembered, storytelling didn't really involve such a continuous back-and-forth. She let them have their moment, glad to see that the two most important men in her life were getting along.

She started making her way through the groups of people, snagging a couple hors d'oeuvres off of some plates as she went to the door. She stepped outside, seeing her younger brother running around the courtyard with the little white terrier running around. She walked through the grass, still holding onto the little snacks she had grabbed, calling out to the pair of them. They both ran over and Juliet sighed when she saw the various grass and mud stains that had made their way onto his clothes.

"I thought you promised me you wouldn't get your suit dirty." Juliet sighed.

"I made no such promises." Richard replied with a grin.

"Smart-mouth." Juliet said, holding out the little snack, "Here, I thought you might be hungry."

"Thanks!" Richard eagerly took the hors d'oeuvre, which was just ham and cheese on a cracker, deciding to only eat the ham.

"You can eat more than the meat, you know."

"But I don't like cheese."

"But the cheese is good for you."

"That only makes me want it less!"

"Ugh! Why must you be so picky about food?" Juliet sighed, "You're not picky when it comes to putting _non_-food items in your mouth." Richard's only response was to stick out his tongue. "Fine. Here, you can have the ham off of this one, too." Richard smiled as he plucked the meat off of the cracker and Juliet held out the remaining pieces of food to Snowy, who gladly started eating it. "I don't know if this is good or bad for you, but I figured you could use it." She affectionately scrubbed his head.

"I like Snowy." Richard said, "He's really fun."

"I'm sure he thinks you're fun, too." Juliet said, she reached down, picking up her little brother, "But I think you've had just about enough for tonight. It's getting cold."

"_Aw_, but I wanted to keep playing." Richard whined.

"Maybe another time." Juliet said as she made her way back inside, "It's almost eight you know. We don't want you staying up too late."

"I'm too big for bed time!" Richard whined, although he found himself relaxing in Juliet's arms as she carried him through the front doors back inside to the warmth of the crowded rooms.

"You are _never_ too big for a bed time." Juliet said, "Grand Mama and Grand Papa have bedtimes. They go to bed at nine."

"Really?" Richard curled up, getting comfortable as he rested his head on her shoulder. He smiled as he watched Snowy follow them through the crowd.

"Uh-huh. But you need to get some sleep. You're looking pretty tired."

"I am not." Richard said, yawning.

"_Right_." Juliet rolled her eyes, rubbing his back, "You're just resting your eyes." She walked over to where her father and Tintin were speaking.

"…And I've always found that, when you look at a ship like that in a certain light, you can see just where the previous name used to be."

"Yes, I've noticed that, too. Have you much experience in boating, Mr. Ryder?"

Juliet cleared her throat to get their attention. She looked at her father, nodding at her little brother in her arms, "I think he's had just about enough for tonight."

"Oh, my dear boy." Juliet's father stood up, taking him from Juliet and sighing as he saw all the stains on his shirt, "You've been playing too much again."

"But it was fun." Richard mumbled softly as he rested his head on his father's shoulder. "Papa, can we get a dog?"

"Maybe when you're older." Geoffrey replied. He turned to Tintin, "I think we can continue our discussion later."

"It would be my pleasure." Tintin replied, he held out his hand, "It was wonderful meeting you."

Geoffrey released one hand from Richard to quickly shake Tintin's hand, "Yes, you too. Have a good night." He leaned over and kissed Juliet's cheek, "Are you leaving now?"

"We didn't plan on staying the whole night." Juliet said, reaching over and taking Tintin's hand, "I'll see you another time, Papa."

Geoffrey nodded, taking Richard out through another door while Tintin, Juliet and Snowy made their way to the front. Tintin reached down and picked up the terrier when he started to whine and he carried him out.

"I think your little brother must have tired him out." Tintin said.

"Oh, sweet thing." Juliet cooed as she scratched Snowy's head. She looked back up at Tintin, "Now, was meeting my father so awful?"

"No. It was actually very pleasant." Tintin said. Juliet nudged him playfully.

"See? I knew you had nothing to worry about. Like I said, you're a man after his own heart." They hailed a taxi and one made its way down to them. They slid inside and gave the man the address of the apartment complex.

"I think your father approved of me."

"Tintin, I _know_ he did. With any luck, you're already part of the family."

Tintin chuckled nervously, "I don't know about that. Don't I need to marry you before that happens?"

Juliet couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face at the thought of marrying Tintin, she would wear an elegant white gown, he could wear a tuxedo… Maybe Snowy could be the ring bearer? She shook her head to rid herself of a daydream that might never be. "Maybe. There's more to being family than legal documents."

"I suppose." Tintin absently petted Snowy as the little dog rested his head in his lap, "By the way, what was that party for?"

"It was for Mr. Morrey." Juliet said, "He just struck a five figure business deal with some people in China. It's no wonder he'd be in a celebratory mood."

"Oh."

Juliet reached over and took Tintin's free hand, linking her fingers with his. He gently squeezed her hand, giving her a soft smile as the taxi drove on, taking them back home.

* * *

**Ta-da! The sequel! Sorry if any of you had to wait on this, but I hope it will be worth it in the end!**


	2. The Kissing Killer

2

That night Tintin was up late working on the first draft of his article on the story of the _Unicorn_ adventure. He had told his editor that he would have another story for him soon, but that he needed to do some follow-ups (Which was the deep-sea exploration he had planned) before it could be finalized. The editor didn't care about the finalization as long as it meant Tintin could get started writing it. The deadline for the draft was tomorrow and Tintin needed to get something presentable ready. He glanced over at Snowy's little bed that rested just outside his office. The terrier was softly snoring, deep in sleep. He smiled softly at the little dog and he reached his arms up, stretching them. He had been working on his story since he had gotten back from the party. He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand and saw that it was just a few minutes after one AM. He heard a small thump that sounded like a door shutting. His brow furrowed and he went over to the front door to his apartment. He looked out the door's peephole and saw Juliet, dressed in a trench coat and with her hair falling loosely about her shoulders, making her way up the stairs. Before he realized what he was doing, he had opened the door.

"Juliet, what are you doing up?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned around, giving Tintin a good look at her face, which still had plenty of make-up on it. "Tintin! Um… Good evening."

Tintin glanced at the door of the apartment complex, and then looked back to her, "Are you _just_ coming in?"

Juliet nodded, "I-I had to work late tonight…"

"Late? It's one in the morning!"

"I know."

"I don't think the library is open past ten."

"…I know."

Tintin waited for her to say something more, but she didn't, "So, just what were you doing so late at night?"

"I just told you. I was working."

"Working where?"

"Nowhere important." She reached into her pocket and got her keys, hurriedly unlocking her door, "It's just this one place. I work the night shift there."

"_Where_?"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tintin." Juliet opened her door and quickly stepped inside.

"Hold on!" Tintin dashed over to her door and stuck his foot in, preventing it from closing, although it did hurt to have the wooden door crushing his foot. "Ow." Juliet opened the door wider, looking at him in surprise, "What exactly are you doing so late at night? And please be specific this time."

"Tintin…" Juliet sighed, pushing him back from the door, "It really isn't anything you should be concerned with."

"You're not doing anything dangerous are you?"

"No, I'm not." Juliet said, "Just…" She sighed again, "Look, I'm not really allowed to talk about it outside of work."

"What? You're not allowed to talk about work outside of work? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm fully aware of what I'm saying!" Juliet snapped. "_And_ I'm very aware of how late it is, and you should be in bed."

"I could say the same thing to you." Tintin said.

"Tintin, what I did doesn't matter, alright? It's a temporary thing, and I think you have more important things to worry about. Goodnight."

"Now hold on—" Tintin was cut off when she shut the door in his face. He scowled and he put his hands on the wood and the doorknob, trying to push it open, but it wouldn't budge. "Juliet, open this door!"

"I said _goodnight_!" Juliet said through the door, and Tintin could hear the click of the door bolt. He sighed and stepped away, heading back to his apartment. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Every night Juliet disappeared from her apartment without him noticing, with a trench coat to cover up whatever she was wearing and make-up practically caked on her face. She normally wouldn't wear so much of it, but she always seemed to wear enough to make it look like she had bought out an entire cosmetics shop when it came to the evenings. Every time he asked her about it, she would dodge the question and try to come up with something else to talk about. Tintin never really dogged her about it, mostly because he knew she would do everything to avoid telling him, but also because he didn't really feel it was his place. Now his curiosity was incredibly piqued and he wanted answers, but Juliet was likely to know this already, and he probably wouldn't see her for a few days.

He closed his apartment door, making sure it was bolted before he went back to his office to finish the work on his draft.

* * *

Tintin left a little later the next morning. When he arrived at the Metro News building, he was surprised to see everyone bustling back and forth. Phones were going off every two seconds, and people rushed around with either notes clutched tightly in their fingers, or with huge stacks of paper for the printing presses. All of his "Good morning" greetings were either ignored or brushed off as people hurriedly worked. He wondered what had gotten everyone in the office so flustered as he went over to the door of his editor, knocking a few times.

"Yes? Who is it? Come in." Mr. Jacobs called from inside and Tintin opened the door. He saw his editor, as he always seemed to be, hunched over the desk of his office looking over some documents and photos. His large hands were threaded through his darkened grey hair as he stared at them. He didn't look up as he said in his deep voice, "Close the door. I can't stand that blasted noise."

Tintin did as he asked, shutting the office door behind him, and suddenly the sound of the frantic reporters were cut off and the office was quiet.

"Is your door soundproofed?" Tintin asked.

"Not really. It's just a thick door." Mr. Jacobs sighed tiredly as he leaned back in his chair. Snowy, who was happy to see the older man again, went up to his chair around his desk and he smiled down at the little dog, giving him a pat on the head. Tintin got a good look at the man, seeing that there were bags under his basset hound eyes and they looked a little bloodshot. He looked absolutely exhausted.

"What's going on out there?" Tintin asked, "Everyone's running around like mad."

"A new story has taken over the news lately." Mr. Jacobs said, looking up at Tintin for the first time since he entered, "It started a little while after you left."

"What is it?" Tintin asked, approaching his desk.

"See for yourself." Mr. Jacobs picked up a few photographs and handed them to the young journalist. His blue eyes curiously went over the picture, only to turn away in disgust a moment later. They were pictures of policemen at various crime scenes where corpses laid about, displayed with blood-covered heads. "They started after you left on that one story you were telling me about. There's some madman going around taking a gun and shooting men's heads left and right."

"So this hasn't been going on for very long?"

"No, not long. But they're vicious. In just three days, he murdered 10 people." Mr. Jacobs shook his head, "It's unbelievable. And somehow, the bastard found the time to string them up and put them on display for everyone to see."

"How awful…" Tintin muttered as he flipped through the pictures, "Don't the police have any leads?"

"None. The only thing any of these men had in common was that they were all killed by the same person." Mr. Jacobs reached up, rubbing his tired eyes, "The police are letting us report on it just to send out a warning to the people, but we don't have any idea what's going on otherwise."

"Only men? Aren't there any female victims?" Tintin asked.

"No. Just men. But it doesn't seem to matter who they are. Young or old, rich or poor, locals or visiting tourists, you name it, the man's killed at least one kind of person like that." He looked up at Tintin, who was gazing at the pictures, quirking his head to the side as he noticed the same red lip stain mark present on all of their collars.

"Are you sure it was a man that killed them all?" Tintin asked. "There's lipstick on all of them."

"Yes, but the police ruled out having a woman do it." Mr. Jacobs said, "The gun used to kill them all was gigantic. The police say it might have been an elephant rifle. The kickback would be too great for a woman to handle it without dislocating something."

"An _elephant rifle?_!" Tintin exclaimed in surprise, "A gun that large must have been heard by someone."

"Oh, there were plenty of people who heard it." Mr. Jacobs said, "But at the time, they just thought it was someone setting off fireworks or crashing a car or something. The only person who thought it was a gun was a policeman that lived near one of the crime scenes."

"And he couldn't get a look at who had done it?"

"He tried. Apparently he chased after someone who was running away from the scene, but the person he thought was the killer was just a woman who was investigating the noise like him. But the lipstick did give us something to name the little bastard." He took one of the photos of an older man, who must have been around Mr. Jacobs' age, "We're calling him the Kissing Killer."

Tintin looked through the photos again and he jumped when the door to the office suddenly burst open and one of the younger reporters ran in with a bundle of papers clutched to his chest, once again Tintin could hear the chaos of the phones and reporters of the building, "Mr. Jacobs!"

"Jonathon, how many times do I have to tell you to knock?!" Mr. Jacobs snapped irritably at him. Jonathon opened his mouth to speak again, but Mr. Jacobs' glare shut it back again.

Jonathon paused for a moment, surprised that his boss was actually enforcing this so strongly, and then he raised his fist up to rap his knuckles against the door, "Mr. Jacobs!"

"That's better. What is it?"

"The Kissing Killer struck again!" He ran up to Mr. Jacobs' desk and released the papers he had been holding, letting them flutter down on the desk. Mr. Jacobs reached down and picked up one of the papers that had a few notes written in rushed handwriting. His eyes widened as he looked at it.

"Alfonse Morrey? Are you sure?"

The young man nodded grimly, "Yes, sir. The same man who had just made connections with China."

"Wait, was this last night?" Tintin asked.

Jonathon looked up at Tintin, just noticing he was there. "Er… Yes."

"I spoke to Mr. Morrey last night." Tintin told his editor, whose eyebrows rose at the mention of it, "He seemed perfectly fine. There were no suspicious characters around."

"How did you meet him?" Mr. Jacobs asked.

"At a party. He was celebrating his newest business deal at his home." Tintin turned to Jonathon, "Where was he found?"

"Down by the docks. He was put in the middle of the road with his legs and arms spread out."

"His home is almost all the way across town from there!"

Mr. Jacobs leaned forward in his seat, looking at the young journalist seriously, "Tintin if what you're saying is true, then we might be able to have something to add this case. Would you be willing to take it?"

"Me?"

"Well, you always seem to have a knack for solving our more difficult cases. And even if this murderer is targeting men, I don't think you share anything in common with these." He gestured to the photographs that were still in Tintin's hands.

Tintin nodded, "Yes, sir."

* * *

Mr. Jacobs gave Tintin all the information he had access to, and Tintin was able to make something of a profile for the killer. Whoever was doing this was definitely doing it to punish their victims. For what, he wasn't sure, but that was something he was bound to find out.

As he continued his trip to where the crime scene was located, he passed by a pub. Unknown to him, Captain Haddock was inside, doing an interview for one of the possible crewmen for their future expedition. He took a large mug of beer and took a big gulp before looking back at his interviewee.

"Well, this all looks good…" Haddock mumbled as he looked over the few notes he had taken about the sailor in front of him, "And we could definitely use a few more mechanics on board, but we might need you to do a few more odd tasks."

"I'm completely prepared for it." The sailor said confidently, "I can do anything from rigging to navigation to…" Captain Haddock's attention was diverted as he looked out the window of the pub and saw Tintin walking by. His eyes widened and he jumped up from his seat.

"Interview's over. You got the job!" He said quickly. He stumbled around the table, stopped and turned around to chug down the last of his beer before slamming the mug back down on the table and then rushing back outside, leaving the other sailor to pay for his drinks. He rushed out the door of the pub and ran up to Tintin, putting his arm around the young man's shoulders, surprising him. "Tintin, laddie!"

"Captain!" Tintin's face instantly brightened at the sight of the older man, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just finished interviewin' a crew member." Haddock said, "Back at the pub there— _Urp_!" He was cut off by a burp and Tintin's nose scrunched up at the foul stench of alcohol on the man's breath. The captain tapped his fist against his chest, letting out a breath, "Ooh, pardon me."

"How are those going?" Tintin asked, carefully moving the captain's arm off his shoulders, trying to put a little space between him and the Captain's breath.

"Good! Good, we've got… uh…" He looked at his hand and started to count on his fingers, "Uh… seven men for our ship. We just need… erm…"

"Thirteen more." Tintin said.

"Yes, that's right, thirteen." Haddock said quickly, "I knew that." Tintin rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything about it, "What are you doin' out by the docks here, Tintin?"

"I've taken on a new case." Tintin said, looking ahead of him, "There's been a string of murders happening since I left, did you know about this?"

"I heard about it." Haddock said, "Some of the boys were talking about it. One of the men they killed was a sailor." He shook his head, "May he rest in peace, the poor soul."

"Did you know him?" Tintin asked.

The captain shook his head, "Nope, never met him. But they say he was a half decent man."

Tintin didn't ask about it anymore as he and the captain came upon what must have been the crime scene. He was surprised to see such a large crowd of people at the edge of the yellow tape that cut them off from contaminating the scene. He could see the flashes of cameras, and he knew most of the people there must have been reporters.

"Blistering blue barnacles, look at 'em all!"

"I know Mr. Jacobs said this story had been all over the news, but I wasn't expecting this kind of crowd…" Tintin said as he started making his way towards the large group. He had more experience making his way through crowds than the captain, it seemed. As Tintin weaved through the throngs of people with ease, the captain found himself pushed back by them. The old sailor could see Tintin making his way through them all.

"I'll uh… I'll just wait here, eh, Tintin?" He hollered to him over the crowds. Tintin didn't respond, focused on making his way to the scene. When he finally approached the edge of the tape cut-off, he saw two familiar faces on the other side.

"Thomson and Thompson!" He called out to the two mustachioed gentlemen, who turned around at the sound of his voice.

"Good morning, Tintin!" They greeted him, tipping their hats in perfect sync.

"What brings you here?" Thompson asked as he lifted up the yellow tape with his cane, allowing Tintin inside.

"I've just gotten word about this case and I was curious about it." He said. "I wanted to see the more recent one, and I thought I would be of some help."

"Oh? How so?" Thomson asked, "Did you know the victim?"

"I met with him the night before, I thought that might be able to help out the police." Tintin said, he paused as he looked up at the two Interpol agents, "By the way, why are you two here? This is a local crime, not international."

"On the contrary, Tintin." Thomson said, "This murderer is responsible for the death of an American man."

"Yes, he was a tourist." Thompson continued, "The American government has been in quite a fit about it."

"In fact, they even insisted on bringing over a pair of their own agents to help in the investigation." Thomson said, he and his partner puffed their chests proudly, "We'll be showing them the ropes while they're in town."

"Arriving today, as a matter of fact." Thompson said.

"Where are they now?" Tintin asked, curious to see the new agents.

"Well, they should have gotten off of their plane about…" Tintin watched in amusement as the two men reached into their pockets to pull out identical pocket watches. "Thirty minutes ago." And in perfect sync, the two men tucked their watches back into their jackets.

"We're expecting them here at any moment." Thomson said.

It was only a moment later that a sleek, black car pulled up on the other side of the marked area. The paint shined, as if it was fresh from the factory that created it. From the driver's side, a large man came out. He was easily six foot seven, his eyes covered by a pair of dark sunglasses. He was clean cut, and judging by his clean-shaven face and nearly bald head, this was a military man. He wore a crisp, sharp black suit with black silk necktie. With a strong jaw and a face that seemed almost statuesque, he was quite intimidating and Tintin had no problem believing this man worked for an American agency. From the passenger's side door came another man, who was only about six feet in height. He wore sunglasses as well, and his blonde hair was combed back in a slick hairstyle. His suit was just as sharp as the first man's, but with it being a lighter grey color rather than black, and he had no neckwear in place around his collar. He was intimidating, but not in the sense that he could pulverize you if wanted, like the first man. He seemed calm and calculating, as if a single phone call from him could ruin your life entirely, and he would have no qualms about making it either. He took off his sunglasses as he stepped out, tucking them into a front suit pocket, revealing a pair of warm brown eyes. Comparing the two men, Tintin could see that the blonde was also significantly younger than the other man, perhaps somewhere in his mid or late twenties, while the larger man must have been around his mid or late thirties.

The two men moved underneath the tape and made their way onto the crime scene, going up to the officers that were currently working to document different evidence.

"That must be them." The two Thom(p)sons said before making their way over to the two newcomers, Tintin following just behind them.

Seeing the two identical men approaching caught the attention of the other two. The Thom(p)sons tipped their hats in greeting to the agents, "Good morning."

"Are you the Interpol agents we were told to meet?" The blonde man asked.

"Indeed. I am Thomson, and this is Thompson. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." They held out their hands and the two agents shook them in greeting.

"I'm Agent Freeman, and this is Agent Burk." The blonde introduced himself, gesturing to the larger man behind him. "We're with the Federal Bureau of Investigation for the United States."

"A pleasure to meet you." Thompson said.

"Indeed, a pleasure." Thomson agreed, "And don't worry about the case, we'll help you along."

Agent Freeman looked the two men up and down, making no effort to hide that he was sizing the two of them up, and frowned, "I appreciate the thought gentlemen, but it won't be necessary. This isn't the first murder case Burk and I have worked overseas." He walked past the two men, who parted for the two American agents as they went over to the police that were working. Agent Freeman flashed his badge to the officers before speaking, "How is this one looking?"

The nearest officer looked at the badge before looking up at him, "Well, we got a call sometime in the early morning from an anonymous tipster that someone had, and I quote, 'left some poor beast to die.'" The officer adjusted his cap as he looked down at the body. The blonde man sighed as he looked down at the corpse.

"Poor man." He turned to his partner, "I want you to get every documentation that you can of the crime scene, take statements from all officers on staff at the time of the call, as well as a copy of the call itself. I want no stone unturned and no clue unfound, got it?" The man nodded and he went to go and speak to the other police officers. Freeman turned back to the police officer, "And as for you, I want every file you have on this case. And by files, I mean I want autopsies, statements from witnesses, from the officers, copies of any anonymous phone calls, everything."

"Wha—?! Now, hold on, you can't just take all our files!" The police officer moved to go and stop Burk, but Freeman held him back by holding out his arm. The officer glared at him, "This is _our_ jurisdiction, you have no right!"

"On the contrary," Freeman nodded to Thomson and Thompson, "As per our joint work agreement with Interpol, we _do_ have the right. This case is now under the jurisdiction of the FBI, and no longer your problem." The officer looked like he was about to burst out in rage, but before he even opened his mouth, Freeman spoke again, "And if I were you, I'd keep that temper in check. I don't think your captain would want to hear any bad evaluations from your foreign visitors, don't you?" Tintin could see the officer clenching his fists, his jaw setting as he glared at the young agent. He stepped back, showing that he was willing to comply, and Freeman grinned smugly.

One of the reporters in the crowd pushed their way to the front, waving a tape recorder over the tape. "Sir! I'm with the Morgan Street paper, any comment on the crime?" He demanded.

Another reporter, not about to let the opportunity of getting something for their news, poked their hand through to get Agent Freeman's attention, "Can we get a quote about the victim?"

"Is there any connection between the murder and the recent working agreement with China?" A third asked.

The crowd of reporters suddenly started unloading questions, their voices calling out like seagulls eager to get some food from a fishing boat. Freeman glanced at the crowd and he smirked, making sure his jacket was straight and moving his hand up to push back any loose locks of blonde hair before he made his way over to the press.

"I'm Agent Freeman of the Federal Bureau of Investigation," He spoke loudly, so that everyone could hear him, "We would like to assure everyone that, as of now, this case is under our control and this murderer will be brought to justice. Are there any questions?" Reporters started firing off one question after another, eager to get some information that the local police had denied them.

"He certainly knows how to handle the press." Tintin commented.

"Indeed…" Thompson murmured.

"I didn't think the Federal Bureau of Investigations would be so… eager to start." Thomson said.

"Neither did I." Thompson agreed.

"Well, I don't think we should be left out of a press conference concerning our own work!" Thomson said, starting to straighten out his jacket and adjusting his hat.

"No, we should not!" Thompson said, doing the same as his partner. The two of them rested their canes on their forearms as they made their way over to the press. Tintin sighed, looking at the two agents as they pushed their way to either side of Agent Freeman, who obviously wasn't happy about sharing the spotlight.

Tintin started to make his way to where some officers were loading Mr. Morrey onto a gurney, his corpse halfway wrapped in a body bag. As Tintin got closer, he got a better look at the wounds that had killed him. There was a large hole in the bottom of his chin, and another, larger one through the top of his skull. It looks like the killer had shot him from his chin and had left him to die. Tintin could see Mr. Morrey's brains had been blown out, quite literally. He could see some men picking up some small globs of grey all over the scene, close to where his body had been found. Looking at the collar of his shirt, Tintin recognized the same suit he had worn at the party, although it seemed a little more disheveled than he remembered. The lipstick stain stood out on the collar of his clothes, almost proudly. Tintin glanced up at the face of the corpse, seeing that his eyes were closed, and his skin was almost paper white. Other than that, he still looked like the same man he had met the previous night.

"Excuse me," Tintin turned around to see the officer who had been speaking to Agent Freeman before was approaching him, "What do you think you're doing? No civilians are allowed past the tape."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Tintin turned to him, "I'm a journalist. My name is Tintin." He pointed to where Thomson and Thompson had been pushed back by Agent Freeman who was speaking to the press, "I'm a friend of theirs." The officer glanced at the Interpol agents, then back at Tintin, nodding in approval.

"I thought you looked familiar. I've read a few of your articles." He smiled at Tintin, "And if you're a friend of theirs, then you're welcome here. Feel free to look around, as long as you don't get in the way of our work."

"I'll be sure not to." Tintin promised.

The officer looked back at Agent Freeman, glaring at him, "No doubt that pompous idiot will take everything we find. You'd do well to keep as much evidence as you can to yourself." Tintin nodded and the officer was called over by another, leaving him alone with the corpse that rested on the gurney. He was about to start inspecting it, when he suddenly felt a hand grabbing the back of his collar and he felt his feet leaving the ground.

"No civilians allowed past the tape." A frighteningly deep voice behind him said. Tintin glanced back and saw that it was Agent Burk. His glasses were still on, but he was still unbelievably intimidating. Tintin was still as he was carried over the crime scene, his feet dangling a good foot off the ground, until he was put over the tape back with the crowd of reporters.

Tintin blinked in amazement at the man's strength, frozen in his spot for a moment as the larger man returned to his job. He snapped out of it soon enough and he turned to where the reporters were either scribbling down various notes onto their notepads or were listening intently to Agent Freeman as he spoke.

"…And there is no reason for anyone to be worried," The blonde agent continued, "But, for safety's sake, I suggest that the gentlemen remain in their homes after dark. Preferably with their own woman with them." He adjusted the collar of his shirt, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do." He turned away from the crowd, which seemed pretty satisfied with the answers he had given him, and some dispersed, but some remained, taking pictures of the crime scene for any articles they were planning to write.

Tintin made his way back through the slowly dispersing crowd and made his way back to the captain, who smiled when he saw him.

"So, how'd it go?" He asked.

"Not nearly as well as I'd hoped." Tintin sighed, "If I want to really start investigating this, I'll have to do a lot more than just look at a corpse." He looked up at the captain, "I'll let you get back to interviewing crew members, Captain."

"Oh, no." Haddock shook his head, "I don't think so. I think the interviews can wait while I help you out." He smiled, "After all, adventure seems to follow you wherever you go. Seems a shame to waste a chance to join you."

Tintin shook his head, knowing that their trip for the _Unicorn_'s treasure would have to be put on hold a little longer, but he needed the extra set of eyes. He smiled up at the captain, "Come on, then. I've got some work for us to do back at my apartment."

* * *

**And here's the second chapter! I've changed up a few things, as you can see. Do you think it will change the ending? We'll see. :D**


	3. Searching For Connections

3

Tintin and the Captain made the trip back to the flat easily enough. Tintin made sure to go over the little things he had learned about the case so he and Haddock could be on the same level. He had to repeat a few things since the man's head was still a little fuzzy from the drinks he had, but it wasn't any trouble. The conversation started to die as they approached the apartment complex, which was fine. They would have more to talk about inside, anyway. As they went up the stairs to his apartment the door across the hall opened to reveal a tired Juliet rubbing at her eyes as she stepped out, dressed in the attire she normally wore for her job at the library.

"Don't tell me you're _just_ getting up." Tintin sighed as he looked at her.

"Okay, I won't tell you." Juliet replied through a yawn. There wasn't a tone of slyness or joking like there normally would have been if she were to say something like that. She didn't smile, didn't smirk. She was just talking. She wasn't angry with him, Tintin could figure that out easily enough. If she was angry she would have said something nasty about the way he gets up, or said nothing at all. She was only upset about what happened last night, it seemed. He was thankful for that, he wasn't sure he could take an angry Juliet.

"Sleeping in awful late, aren't ye?" The captain asked.

Juliet glanced up at the man as if just noticing he was there, smiled and nodded silently and walked around him to continue down the stairs. She ignored Snowy's playful barks directed to her and simply walked out without another word. Haddock raised a curious eyebrow to her departure, then turned to Tintin, who simply returned to the task of unlocking his door.

"What's wrong with Juliet?" He asked his young friend.

"I don't know." Tintin replied honestly as he pushed the door open, going to where he left the pile of files of all available information the newspaper had gotten for his case.

"You _don't know_?" The captain repeated in surprise. "But I thought you and Juliet were…"

"We are." Tintin said, handing a few of the files to the captain, "But just because we're courting, it doesn't mean that she and I know every last aspect about each other's lives. It's only been a week."

"Still, though!" The captain said.

"She has a right to her privacy." Tintin said, under his breath he muttered, "Although I almost wish she didn't…"

"What's privacy got to do with it?" The captain sputtered.

"Juliet's been going out every night and she normally doesn't come back until the early hours of the morning." Tintin said quickly, "I've tried talking to her about it but she doesn't want to, so I won't force her." He took a seat and opened the files to start thumbing through them.

"So, you're not worried?"

"Of course I'm worried." Tintin said quickly, "But… She's told me that it's not illegal, it's not dangerous… I trust her to make good decisions."

"You don't sound very sure o' that." The captain said in a low voice.

"Just…!" Tintin sighed, "Can we drop the subject and focus on why we're here?" Tintin asked, gesturing to the files in Haddock's hands.

"Oh." Curiously, the captain opened up one of the files, seeing a newspaper clipping that talked about one of the victims of the Kissing Killer. He took a seat on the chair besides Tintin as he started to read it, glancing over at the young man to see he was doing the same thing to another clipping, marking a few things here and there. He looked back at his clipping and read the first few sentences, and then he stopped and turned to Tintin, "What are we looking for again?"

"Something that links these men together." Tintin explained patiently, "Something that keeps recurring in these articles, look for any similarities. If we find it, it's likely the way our killer targeted them and it will give us a better chance at stopping them."

"Ah. Right." Haddock went back to focusing on the article.

The two of them spent hours looking over the clippings. They couldn't find any similarities between the victims. Their ages were all over the map with too wide of a range to give Tintin any hope of finding connections through a medical reason or condition. If any of these men shared a doctor or went to the same hospital, it was purely by coincidence. Anything any of these men shared was by pure coincidence from the brand of car they owned (if they had one) to the quality of clothes they wore when they died. Tintin focused on the articles, reading through each one carefully, noting anything specific about the victim that could help him make a connection to another. Unfortunately, it wasn't as helpful as he had hoped.

By the time Tintin had finished going through each and every article that his editor had given him, the sun had already made its descent below the horizon and the last bits of sunlight were starting to fade away. Tintin sighed, placing the papers down on the coffee table. He glanced over and was about to ask Captain Haddock if he had found anything Tintin might have missed, and saw that the Captain was asleep. He was slumped back in the chair, his head hanging off of his shoulder, mouth wide open and Tintin could easily hear the man's snoring. He glanced up at the clock and was surprised to see that late morning had turned into late afternoon and growing closer to evening. It was amazing how quickly time flew when he was working.

He looked over at the little doggie bed where Snowy had been resting since they had returned home. The little terrier wasn't asleep yet, so when he saw that his master was taking a break from the papers, he perked up and got off the little rounded pillow and headed to stand by Tintin's feet. The young man reached down and scratched the little dog behind his ear.

"What is it, Snowy?" He asked the little dog, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the captain, "What is the connection that brings all these men together? There must be _something_…" Snowy didn't know how to respond other than a sudden bark that startled the captain out of his sleep.

"All hands on deck!" He said, his voice slurred from sleep, "Man the…" He stopped when he realized where he was and that his dream was over. "Oh." He re-adjusted himself in the bed and sat up so he could be more comfortable. He looked over at Tintin and over at the clippings that had been scattered all over the coffee table in front of them. "Did we find anything?"

"Nothing I didn't already know." Tintin sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know how this killer is targeting all these men… Their ages range from seventeen to seventy, so any man could be this killer's next victim. And whenever he kills someone, he makes sure to move their bodies and put them on display in some public place, so if the lipstick stain on their collars wasn't enough, this murderer _enjoys_ killing these men and wants everyone to know it was him." He glanced at the nearest clipping, picking it up and looking over all the notes he had written on it, "He's arrogant and overconfident, and I'm hoping his hubris will be his downfall, but… I'm not sure if I can do something like that with so many victims, and there are sure to be more to come." He put the clipping down and sighed, reaching up to move his hand over his quiff of hair to flatten it, only to have it pop back up a moment later. "If I just had access to more than just public records…"

His mind flashed back to that morning, remembering the police officer he had spoken to for a short moment. He was willing to let him look over the evidence of the crime scene, would he be willing to give Tintin access to the autopsy reports and witness statements? It was a bit of a longshot, considering he had only met the man that day, but it was the only shot he had to go on. He quickly gathered up the files he had on his table and tucked them under his arm before he stood up, "Come on, Captain. I think I have a lead that might be able to help us." He went over to where his coat rested and the captain pushed himself up from his seat.

"Where are we going?" He asked as he moved to follow Tintin, Snowy doing the same, his little terrier tail wagging in excitement about going outside.

"The police station." Tintin said. He opened the door and he looked up to see Juliet had just stepped out of her apartment. Again, she was wearing that trench coat, covered in make-up with her hair pulled back. He could see the skirt of a lime green dress barely poking out from the bottom of the coat, just barely covering up her legs. The second she saw Tintin she froze and frowned. He wore the same expression as he looked her over. The captain stood awkwardly behind Tintin, unsure of just what to do. After what seemed like a long moment of silence, Tintin spoke, "Going to your nightly job again?"

"Yes." Juliet answered shortly.

"Are you ever going to tell me what it is?" Tintin asked. Juliet sighed and shook her head, avoiding the question as she started to make her way downstairs. Tintin followed after her. "Juliet, wait."

"Why? So you can interrogate me again?" Juliet snapped over her shoulder.

"I wasn't interrogating you." Tintin said, "You've been doing this every night since we returned and I'm concerned! I have a right to be concerned!"

"You have a right to _nothing_! I've barely known you more than a few weeks, and that's pushing it!" Juliet turned to him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Juliet I don't…" Tintin sighed, stopping himself before he started yelling, "I don't want you to be angry with me." Juliet relaxed a little, "I just wish you would trust me a little more. I understand we haven't known each other that long, and have been courting for even less time, but… I'm worried."

"Well… you shouldn't be." Juliet said, "I'm a big girl, Tintin. I can take care of myself."

"I'm not meaning to imply that you can't." He replied, "I just…" He trailed off. Juliet frowned sympathetically and she took a step forward, putting her hands on his shoulders and giving them a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I know you mean well, and I appreciate the thought." She gave him a small, reassuring smile, "But you need to understand that I have a place for my privacy, just as you have a place for yours. And I will tell you about it _in time_, just not _now_. Maybe when it's over, I'll tell you, but that won't be for a while."

Tintin looked up into her emerald eyes and saw the sincere honesty shining through them. He sighed, "All right… But I want you to tell me more about it soon."

"Soon-_ish_." Juliet said and she stepped back, "Now, I have a cab waiting, so if you'll excuse me." She turned and headed out the door and into the waiting car. Tintin watched as it took off down the street. The captain came up behind him, glancing at the cab, then at Tintin's back.

"So… Still don't know, eh?" He asked.

"Yes, but…" Tintin sighed, "She said she'll tell me in time. I'll trust her with that much."

Haddock nodded, glancing at the cab, "She was dressed to the nines, don't you think? I've never seen her like that." Tintin nodded quietly, starting to make his way down the street to hail a cab of his own. The captain followed, "I wonder who she's dressin' up for?"

"What do you mean?" Tintin asked.

"Well, a lass like Juliet just doesn't get all dolled up without a reason." The captain said as if it were obvious, "She's doin' it for someone."

Tintin frowned at the thought of Juliet dressing up like that to meet with someone else. Surely… surely she wouldn't. They had only been together for a week, surely she needed more time before deciding to see someone behind his back? Unless she was already seeing someone before they met and she was seeing him behind that man's back…

He glanced up and focused on hailing a cab. He wouldn't think such things. Surely, Juliet wouldn't be like that. _Surely_.

* * *

The trip to the police station was relatively short. The station was rather sparse of officers. He could only see a few of them walking around. He thought it might have been because of the late hour, but it could also be because many of them were working. The Kissing Killer was bound to have taken up more of their attention than other cases at the moment. He tried getting the attention of one of the officers there to ask for their assistance, but he brushed him aside, telling him to ask someone else. He tried again with a second man, but he did the same.

When Tintin approached the third officer, he recognized him from before. He was the officer that had permitted him to remain on the crime scene when he had gone to see Mr. Morrey's body. He was sitting at a desk, the papers he was working shone under a single lamp.

"Long night?" Tintin asked, getting his attention.

The officer looked up from his work, and gave Tintin a tired smile, "Yes, something like that." He started tucking the papers away into the file, subtly giving the message that what he was looking at wasn't meant for civilian eyes. "What brings you here? Do you wish to file a report with the police?"

"No, not at all." Tintin said, "I was actually hoping you might be able to help me."

"Oh?"

Tintin handed him the files he had brought from his apartment, "I'm working the Kissing Killer case. I was hoping you might be willing to give me some more information than what's available here."

The officer frowned as he looked over the newspaper clippings, "I'm afraid those files aren't meant for civilians. There's a reason we only released this much information."

"I'm a journalist, not a reporter." Tintin said, "That means, if you give me this information, I have no reason to publish it other than making it a side-note in the finished story."

The officer's frown deepened, "I know the kind of stories you write, Mr. Tintin. I know you get into trouble constantly, but are you sure you even want to become a part of this? You and I are both at risk, as well as any other man you associate with."

"I think this sort of thing is something that should be remedied as soon as possible, don't you?" Tintin asked.

The officer sighed, "I _do_ agree with you. But even then, I can't give you those files. They're not meant for civilian eyes for a reason. You need special clearance as an officer in order to see them."

"Oh." Tintin's shoulders sagged. "I don't suppose there's any way for me to get that clearance?"

"Not unless you've graduated from the police academy." The man replied. He paused for a moment, "You know… Now that I think about it…" He put the files down on the table and started digging through one of his desk drawers. "We have an annual program for the students entering the final month of their training. We put them on a special observation list and they're allowed to take part in the cases, although they don't need to do all the paperwork. It's basically showing the more exciting part of being a police officer before they actually find out what we do." He chuckled dryly, shutting the drawer and pulling open another one. "I might be able to pull some strings and get you on that roster. Ah-ha!" He pulled out a file with a grin, "Here it is." The green file was thick, filled with all kinds of different papers. When the officer put them on the desk and started going through them, Tintin saw that a lot of the papers inside were contracts and waivers that must have been signed by the students. "Here we go." He pulled out a pair of sheets that held a long list of names and contact information. There were a few blank slots at the bottom of the second page. The officer reached for a pen and handed it to him, "Just sign your name here. It might take me a while to get you copies of the other documents that you need to sign."

"I see." Tintin looked at the roster, holding the pen. He made no move to sign it, "Are you sure this is a good idea? This program is for students of the police academy, which I definitely am not."

"I know, but here's the thing," The officer began, "Technically, none of these students are seen as officers. They're just civilians in the eyes of the law. You're a civilian so, legally, there shouldn't be any problems."

"That's a bit sneaky." Tintin replied, although he couldn't help but grin a little at the man's cleverness.

"Well, these lawyers and prosecutors can be a real pain in the ass if you're not careful." The officer replied, "I just know how to get around their silly rules."

Tintin shook his head as he placed the document on the desk and signed is name in the next empty slot, "And when will the other documents be ready for me?"

"Give me a day or two, I'll get them for you." The officer said. "Give me a phone number where I can reach you, and I'll tell you when I've got them."

"I'll put down the number for my complex. It's the only phone in the building." Tintin said as he scribbled the numbers next to his name.

He could hear the door opening behind him and Tintin turned to see the two FBI agents from before walking in. The blonde man leading the way with an air of arrogant confidence.

"Ah, Sergeant Jensen." He walked over to the officer than Tintin had been speaking with, completely ignoring his existence in the process, "I've come for those files I was promised. The autopsy reports, the family testimonies, the witness statements."

"I can't give you those files just yet." The officer- or rather sergeant- replied with a smug grin. "I've promised to give them to one of our officers in training to help along with the investigation."

Agent Freeman's expression fell into a scowl. "I thought I made this clear earlier. As per our joint work agreement with Interpol, the Kissing Killer is now under the jurisdiction of the FBI."

"Which has no proper place in Brussels!" Sergeant Jensen snapped, "You belong back in the states, with the rest of them."

"Okay, listen _buddy_," Freeman said, biting on the word, "I'm not usually this pushy, but I have my orders, and you have yours, so hand over the files." He held out his hand to the officer, who scowled at the sight of it.

"And you see here, _friend_," Jensen growled, smacking away Freeman's hand, "This murderer is in our own backyard, so I'm sure your superiors at the bureau would understand our need to keep copies of the files on everything, which is still in progress."

"And they're not finished?" Freeman snapped, now thoroughly irritated, "You were told to have them ready—"

"By tomorrow." Jensen cut him off, "And around here, 'tomorrow' doesn't come until the sun rises." He stepped back, letting Tintin come into the agent's line of sight. He glanced at the young man.

"And just who are you supposed to be?" He asked.

"I'm Tintin. I'm a journalist for the local newspaper." Tintin said. When he mentioned the word 'journalist' Agent Freeman instantly brightened and he started brushing back his blonde hair.

"Ah, another member of the press come to interview me?" He asked with a grin, "I've already had so many ask me so many questions, but I think I've got time if—"

"I'm not here to interview you." Tintin said, cutting him off, "I'm here to follow up on the case of the Kissing Killer."

"I'm afraid not." Agent Freeman said, his brightened personality had disappeared as quickly as it had come, "This particular case is now under _my_ jurisdiction, and I'll not have any simple paper boy get in my way." He chuckled condescendingly, starting to speak to him as an adult would to a small child, "Be careful not to stick your nose in places it doesn't belong, little man, or it just might get chopped off!" He touched Tintin's nose when he said this, as if he were a cute puppy. Tintin scowled and swatted the man's hand away.

"Tintin has been granted special access to the files you want." Jensen said, "Which is why it's taking us more time than usual to create a copy for you."

Agent Freeman's eyes narrowed, "This _paper boy_ has access to exclusive police reports? Don't you think that a little reckless, Sergeant?"

"Not at all. Tintin is a world-famous journalist. He only publishes his stories once he's finished them." The sergeant put his hand on Tintin's shoulder, "We're quite certain that any information he receives now will be useless in the article once he finishes writing it. No one will want to hear about any of the details when there's an exciting adventure to be told."

Agent Freeman scowled, and he didn't say anything for a moment, "I'm going to review this with my superiors. See where they stand on the matter of handing out important files to civilians." He glanced at Tintin when he said 'civilian,' "And when they get back to me, I'm going to make sure you and I have a nice, _long_ chat about it." Sergeant Jensen didn't move from his stance, standing tall and scowling back at Agent Freeman, "In the meantime, I want those files ready for me by 0500 hours sharp." He turned around, gesturing to his much taller partner, "Come on, Burk."

The two agents turned and walked out again and Sergeant Jensen stepped away from Tintin.

"I think you're going to get in a lot of trouble for that." Tintin said.

"I can take it." Jensen replied, "Besides, I seriously doubt the FBI would care if we kept a few copies hanging around. Like I said, this killer is in our backyard. We'd like a shot at him if we can get it. Wait here." The sergeant left Tintin's sight for a moment, going around a corner, and came back a moment later with a few files in hand, "These are all the witness statements, family testimonies, and autopsy reports. I'd take these and hang onto them as long as you can. No doubt that pompous American will snatch them away from us the first chance he gets."

Tintin took the files from him, tucking them under his arm, "Thank you for doing this." He held out his free hand to the officer.

"You're welcome." The officer smiled as he shook Tintin's hand, "I'm Sergeant Edward Jensen, by the way."

"It's nice to meet you." Tintin said. "I hope I can count on you in the future, Sergeant."

"I'd be happy to." Jensen replied.

The pair heard a crashing noise and turned to see Captain Haddock fumbling around someone's desk as he had accidentally knocked over all the papers that had been on it. When he saw that he had gotten the attention of the two, he instantly stiffened with a nervous laugh, and tried to straighten up the papers he had knocked over. Tintin sighed wearily, and Sergeant Jenson gave him an odd look, "Perhaps… next time, though, you should come on your own."

* * *

Tintin stepped out of the police station, carefully scanning through the first file. The first autopsy report described the same manner of death as with Mr. Morrey. A single gunshot to the head from below the chin, large caliber, with great damage done to the cranium. Tintin closed the files and kept them close underneath his trench coat. Behind him trailed Captain Haddock and Snowy.

"So, is that going to help us?" Haddock asked.

"It should. More information gives us more leads to go off of." Tintin said, he glanced up at the dark sky, "It's getting late, Captain. I'm going to head back to the flat. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Count on it." Haddock said, giving Tintin a firm handshake before heading off in the opposite direction as him.

Neither was aware of the pair of eyes that were watching them from just across the street.

Agent Freeman frowned as he saw the files Tintin tucked into his jacket. Hidden inside their black car, they didn't attract any attention against the building they were parked next to. He kept his eyes trained on Tintin until the young man turned a corner and was out of his sight. Once he was gone, Freeman looked over at his partner, flicking his massive shoulder to get his attention.

"Take us back to the hotel, Burk." He ordered. The man said nothing as he started up the car's engine and started to move through the streets, heading in the direction of the hotel where he and Freeman were staying as they worked on the case. Freeman's gaze focused out the car window, his eyes narrowing as they passed by Captain Haddock on his way home. "I think we'll need to keep a close eye on that paper boy." Freeman leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest, "After all, we don't want him to get his nose chopped off."

* * *

**I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! There was this crazyness where the file got corrupted and I had to start writing the chapter all over again. Then I got a new computer, and I'm still trying to work with Windows 8 and it's getting crazy. :P But I'm learning, and I made this, so I hope you all like it!**


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